Flame On

Superman of myth, uberman of Western philosophy,
superior man of immanence prosody,
that really super guy who embodies attraction’s projection,
makes you feel special, protected.
Power does not truly emanate from fear, but through elation,
elevation beyond mastery we tell ourselves
we are allowed.
Keeper of the flame.
Mummer of the tale.
Drummer of the night.
Voices out of fantasy.
Neuromancy, trip on aromatic
rhythms, sway of lotus moonbeams.
Nobody says, everyone knows,
humming through transient refrains. 
Choke holds, silently restrains;
sold as fun sucks out sustaining blaze.
Why doesn’t tough upbringing teach us to
behave,
intelligent, brave?
Swords out of vogue, acrobatic drama moves.
Uncover cruel stigmata, naked terror, bruised youth
never outgrown.  Is there anywhere a home
based on love?
Some jolly tomorrow, if we endure years enough,
perhaps true savior appears.  Massive hugs of cheer,
raving “so amazed, to see you’re here!”
Remember when we imagined, felt future’s tear-stained
kiss in solidarity.  Make us believe.
.
.
.
Make Peace The Issue
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